The Hamam Diaries Continued

by Sebastian J Stone

  The basis of our preoccupation with nurturing is the length of time required to rear our children. Our brains are large because of our unique intelligence and the size of our heads is creating the problem. Our young must be born 13 months premature. Birth at nine months already threatens the life of the Mother, at twenty-two months it would be impossible. Sex being readily available at home ensures the child’s survival.

  To understand the origins of homosexuality it would be interesting to consider the interaction between men on hunting parties or at war and also the relationships between men who were not chosen for mating. Throughout all species the male advertises his genetic inheritance and it is the female who chooses a mate. This is one of the tools of evolution, and another fact of nature that religion has perverted.

  January 20, 2009:

  Today Nice Niko arrived early, he was relaxed and we took our time making love in the hot room. He is now allowing me to spend longer caressing his body and kissing his ass, dick and balls. Then a German who is a regular arrived and Niko indicated caution, shaking his head. I shrugged saying, ‘He’s gay and minds his own business’ but Niko said, ‘No.’ The German has a little Hitler mustache, huge wide hips and the most disgusting ass I have ever seen. He circles the central podium at a sedate pace, his huge hips swaying with the dignity of a woman wearing a crinoline. He keeps this up for what seems like hours and I usually have to leave.

  Dirty Kostas (a regular) arrived and kept checking on us in the hope of catching some sexual activity. We sat with our feet clearly visible from the door but Niko had several fingers in my ass while wanking himself surreptitiously and he eventually came all over my dick. Dirty Kostas made another surprise sortie only to find us sprawled on the floor, exactly as before. Kostas patrols the baths, changing rooms and toilets insistently; condom in hand

  In the afternoon, I had two massages. One was a very tall Italian looking gay who flaunts himself all summer in flowing apparel for the benefit of the tourists. He has long flowing hair, bleached to a convincing light brown and one of those gay profiles with a huge nose, a prominent chin and recessed sweetie lips. He arrived first but I asked him to wait until later when the Hamam will be quieter. I took him to be Italian because there is something essentially renaissance about him, unlike Greeks who are essentially peasants.

  The pansy queen lay on the warm marble floor with elegance. I always use the hot room in winter because there are fewer visitors and it is warm. In summer, it can be a torture chamber. I began the massage very leisurely with a prolonged scrub back and front, spending a long time on his back; his ass looked huge but is in proportion, he is a big man.

  He turned over and from the front I massaged the back of his neck penetrating deep into his tension. I was deliberately taking my time but as soon as I touched his massive chest running my hands over his rather gross female nipples, his dick stirred. It is thick and sizeable, but lacking in beauty. I suppose he must be about 50. Dicks seem to lose their charm and the freshness of youth by about the age of 35.

  He responded to all physical contact with an exaggerated sensitivity. As I reached his groin and thighs his dick was standing clear of his stomach. Pretending to be straight he apologized for his erection with the words, ‘I am sorry about this, I think it must be because I am so relaxed.’ I nodded my acceptance but thought, “It might be because you’re a fucking pousti queen”. I said, ‘Its ok, I am use to it, are you Italian?’--- ‘No, Greek’ I was surprised and forgot to say something about stiff dicks. He smiled and his legs fell to each side making access to his inner thighs unavoidable.

  I ignored his dick and finished massaging his legs and feet. I sensed his desperation because he kept touching his dick. I resorted to vigorously scrubbing his groin, stomach and thighs with the Loofah glove while his dick throbbed with every heartbeat and he spread his legs wide in his desperation to be taken in hand.

  I covered my hands in shampoo and then took hold of his shaft. The effect was instant, with a cry he pushed his legs even wider and raised his rigid dick gasping and squirming. I was beginning to amuse myself by refusing to release him, until he went crazy. I was not interested in this oversized pousti, I was tormenting him.

  I stimulated his balls for some time, one finger tantalizingly near his anus that was eager and wide. Then I took hold of his dick again, it was rigid like stone and with the gentlest of pressure passing my fingertips over the length of his shaft from ass to tip I began to masturbate him, but by hardly touching him his dick was beginning to hurt from the increasing pressure.

  I applied a finger and thumb each side of his shaft and massaged in tiny circles as his body went into spasms and I watched his agony in his contorted face, denying him his desperate need, he took hold of his own dick. I moved his hand controlling his suspense like a conductor manipulating an orchestra. I refused to release his orgasm, but I watched as, to my astonishment, his semen flowed without contractions, as if the flood gates had failed.

  I rinsed him and he stood up. His erection was unrelenting and soaping my body especially my dick I stood behind him with my dick close to his ass. I soaped his chest, loins and thighs from behind and then with sudden force he rammed his ass onto my dick and bent forwards. I grabbed his dick; it felt like a pan-handle wanking him violently. His balls were flying in all directions as he lifted his ass higher and then a great shuddering spasm wracked his whole body and a guttural scream escaped his throat as copious blobs of semen sprayed the marble basin and walls.

  ‘Are all your orgasms like that?’--- ‘No, but they are always intense. I promise I will come again’. I accepted his offer but knew I did not want to see him again because I felt empty, as if I had in some way been dishonest. I had manipulated the situation for my amusement not for mutual pleasure and I felt a degree of disgust.

  Towards closing time a very handsome man in his 50s, arrived. He had already agreed to have a massage later but spent his time sitting opposite Rubber Dick playing games neither intended following through. He was probably fat once and still unable to get rid of a deposit around his hips and there is some surplus skin around his ass. His face is classically chiseled and beautiful and his hair short strong and a steel blue. He did not have his massage, but I sensed the possibility of a new friend.

  January 23, 2009:

  I saw Alexander a few mornings ago and once again I didn’t recognize him. This time his beard was abundant and he wore sunglasses. I need warning to behave properly, shock or confusion leaves me distant. He is staying with a girlfriend who is a psychologist; she once taught him. He’s always in the company of woman, but if Alexander is gay, he will miss his most vital years in denial and idealizing woman.

  Intellectual people seem unable to rationalize their confused sexuality but there is nothing rational about gay love as it serves no biological purpose. It takes a degree of indifference or ignorance to accept that our sexuality is serving a social function and not biology. People who don’t analyze seem to grasp simple truths without questions, but intellectuals usually obsesses about hidden agendas anyway. When it comes to feelings or understanding and sex, we are in the realms of the illogical and the irrational.

  Alexander and his friend invited me for a meal this evening. We met at the Chinese restaurant where the waiters compensate for the bland food. Alexander and his friend are wonderful together. The conversation got around to the size of dicks repeatedly and Alexander referred to his own dick continually and he even volunteered to get it sucked by Dirty Tassos. They decided to adopt me as their child because they found me not only immature but enthusiastic and naïve.

  I told Vangelis that Alexander and his girlfriend wanted to adopt me and he was genuinely upset, he said, ‘No way, I am your father.’ Today, I discovered that the German with the child bearing hips complains about me. I have noticed if Niko is in the Hamam, he does not leave until after Niko, I since the possibility of problems.

  I hear that Brad Pit has made a film where he starts life as an
old man and ends up a senile baby. So now I can check my prediction that such good looks don’t last much beyond the early summer of life.

  January 24, 2009:

  I have met a very good looking Greek rent boy. He showed me some porn on his expensive mobile. First he showed me a pubescent girl taking a huge dick and second two boys fucking one girl at the same time in perfect synchronization. He knows that I have no intention of paying for sex but he is friendly and probably relying on me giving him the occasional euro.

  His specialty, he tells me, is fucking wives for the amusement of their husbands. People pay quite a lot to get their wives fucked. There was something about one man wanting to look at his asshole while he fucked his wife. He is from a village and I will try to encourage him to visit the Hamam, so I can check his dick. Sadly, he is already starting to accumulate fat on his hips, he is probably about seventeen.

  January 25, 2009:

  I went to see a film about ‘Georgina Duchess of Devonshire’. I have a famous print of her holding her baby. They lived close to Orchards End and the family is still resident. She was a distant relative of ‘Princess Diana’ and the film was presented as a parallel story. She was a famous beauty, loved and respected universally but not by her husband. The actress did not have a period face; she has one of those noses that have the appearance of having been pruned too severely. The interiors and costume were magnificent. England did make finest furniture in the world but the Greek audience talked all the way through and all had their cellphones on. It was a world totally beyond their comprehension and of no interest whatsoever. The cinema was a sea of cellphones.

  February 1, 2009:

  I have found a new place to stay. It is two early vaulted rooms, probably dating from the 14th century with a Garden. I went to confirm that I intended taking the rooms but nobody was available so I told the old woman in the shop who was involved in the negotiations. She nodded profusely, smiling her approval, repeating, yes, yes. I nearly lost the room because they asked Claire to contact me and she didn’t bother. It was Miss America who by chance heard that the rooms had been given to an Albanian family. Claire was up to her usual tricks of taking charge to deliberately create problems. She calls it “The annoyance factor.” The old lady who likes to please and agrees with everybody failed to pass on my information. She is probably senile.

  February 5, 2009:

  I telephoned Stuart. We had a long talk and he talked about Yolande continually. I always thought that he didn’t approve of her and was jealous of Eleanor’s devotion, but it was his shyness that came across as disapproval. We were cut off by an accusing American voice. “You have exceeded your credit” I object to machines with attitude. The worst one is an English woman who sneers and accuses with such Phrases as ‘I didn’t detect your response’ or ‘I am sorry, there seems to be a problem’ the last thing we require is a machine that says it’s ‘Sorry’, with the implication that I am stupid.

  February 6, 2009:

  There is a short muscular Greek who visits the Hamam of about 40. He resembles a macho teddy bear and is always looking for sex. We once got vaguely intimate but when I felt his ass I could smell shit. Today, I discovered that it is his breath that smells of shit. He wanted to watch me holding my dick while wanking himself. I co-operated, it was impersonal and vaguely amusing.

  Today, a boy I recall from the beach when he was 14 came into the Hamam. In those days, he was so desperate for sex that he used to swim under water to try and suck dicks. At 15, he grew tall, thin and ugly and was also covered in long black hair. He is now 20 and shaves his boy but is still exceedingly repulsive.

  I was in charge of the Hamam when he arrived and after half an hour he came looking for me. When Vangelis eventually returned, I went into the Hamam and the boy took me by the hand into the hot room. He lay down holding my eyes. He is so disgusting, I found him quite amusing. I covered him in Shampoo and scrubbed him very hard. His dick is so long and it became so rigid that it started to bend like a bow under tension. I ran my hands over his receptive well-scrubbed body and discovered that despite his loathsomeness and a mouth full of bad teeth, he is exciting.

  He pressed himself against me all the time, his legs, groin, arms and back kept encircling me. When I ran my hands down his back and he lifted his ass my fingers vanished into his asshole, where I found a hard turd lurking. I did not venture there again. I picked his legs up and he threw them over my shoulders pulling his ass on to my dick. His hands kept grabbing my body and when I leaned forwards his soapy legs encircled me and for fun I wrestle him into every fucking position imaginable. He is the sexiest most spontaneous, uninhibited and natural partner I have ever encountered.

  He did not need sex but was the epitome of sexuality. Eventually he buried his face in my ass as I grabbed his remarkable dick. He climaxed and then, sitting in front of me smiling, kept jerking himself off long after his orgasm had subsided.

  Standing he turned and put his ass on my engorged dick reaching behind him he held my ass very gently, and became the most sensitive and intuitive of lovers. Never have I known such unbridled sexuality with such a disgusting but liberated boy. He is particularly unattractive, having skin of a nasty color, a huge dick, badly shaved body hair, a very big nose a mouth full of rotting teeth and acne but he turned me on. I think the most important element in sexual arousal is confidence. Perfection and beauty are intimidating, but I would never kiss him.

  The Pousti Pansy and the disgusting boy seem to be far more sexual and passionate than the general population, no halfhearted erections or dribbling ejaculations. I am told that in South America the fucking goes on in the clubs all night. I am told that they make a purge from pepper and alcohol then spend one hour in the toilet irrigating their asses. After a purge and extensive irrigation, I can’t imagine where they find the energy or inclination to fuck at all.

  February 10, 2009:

  The archeological department has found out that I made a sign board to advertising the Hamam. The sign states ‘TURKISH BATHS.’ I used the official color scheme, two shades of grey. It was an attempt at making the Hamam profitable, to prevent it being closed, but the archeological department is objecting to the word ‘TURKISH’. They insist that the baths are medieval. (There is no such thing, only the civilized east washed)

  This is another typical example of Greek, ignorance and crass ineptitude. This is the official denial of history and an idiotic suggestion preventing the baths ever becoming profitable. They hoped to have the sign removed on aesthetic grounds but I used the official color scheme. They demanded the word ‘TURKISH’ be painted out. Vangelis asked a painter, working close by to, “Just paint the word Turkish out.” The painter was using dark brown paint. The Turks arrived in the 1520s, so most of the visible architecture must be Turkish, but it is officially claimed to be medieval.

  February 16, 2009:

  This morning a very fine Greek came for a massage. Vangelis whispered, ‘He’s married, be careful.’ I was not busy and was free to spend a long time giving a searching and relaxing massage in the warmth of the hot room. His perfect engorged dick oozed pre-cum continuously. I deliberately caught his dick with my fore arm and it rolled on his loins like a thick sausage many times. He had the Mediterranean perfection that is common in Greece. We got into conversation. He is a professional footballer from northern Greece.

  He told me about his girlfriend and complained, ‘Women are a problem’ and he asked if I am married. When he introduced himself, he kept hold of my hand. We were slipping into a state of deep intimacy, our voices becoming soft, our eyes continually engaged but without intensity. Vangelis came to tell him that his wife is waiting but he avoided coming to the doorway and I got the giggles and shouted ‘You can come in.’

  I missed that man, there had been no overt sexual invitations but an intimate bond had evolved and my heart ached for him. ‘Was he gay?’ asked Vangelis ‘Probably, I don’t know, you came at the wrong time.’ Vangelis looked surprised,
‘nice dick though.’

  February 18, 2009:

  This morning I got a call from Christo asking, ‘Please visit the gallery but don’t bring Claire.’ He has a German partner and they are opening a carpet gallery and coffee bar. They wanted to discuss the décor. Christo has been mounting birth stones in Silver wire for years, but his specialty is genuine carpets. His partner, who has money and is convinced that she has taste, is not sure what she wants but she is very self-opinionated insisting that she has a very clear vision of her dream. She probably wants to do everything; people do and they usually get it wrong. The less they know the more conviction and determination they have, and as I feared she did all the talking and did not listen. Socrates’s comment is eternally true for the wise, “the only thing I can be sure of is my own ignorance.

  February 19, 2009:

  Today I met Claire at Christo’s gallery/ coffee bar. Claire and the German were both pontificating but without communication and I began to feel ill. Claire then used their telephone to call her father and she stayed talking for one hour because she was not paying the bill. The call left Claire broken and sobbing uncontrollably, perhaps Claire’s father told her a few ‘Home truths.’ I heard Claire saying to the German ‘You are talking to a very broken woman.’

  After another half hour, the German woman, an alcoholic anorexic with a hatchet face, had had enough and thought it was time to be positive and tell Claire the truth for her own good. She said, in a deep throaty voice, ‘Claire my dear, you are 51; badly wrinkle and its time you grew up and stopped blaming your father.’ Claire reeling from shock said, ‘But I am only 49.’ and continued ‘They don’t like me and they never did.’ I remained silent and the German launched into her own history of abuse and rejection. They both believe themselves to be unloved daughters and from what I have seen, with good reason.